The Better Brother

(Revised version)



“Do you want to try? Little Bandit is next, ponies are much easier, near impossible to mess up,” said Mrs. Brown, gesturing at the pony in the next pen.

Kenzie, a lanky 19-year-old with unruly curls and birthmarks speckling her neck, bit her lip. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her plain, hand-sewn dress, a uniform of the Fold, the insular, cult-like family that ran the ranch. She’d been raised to serve the animals and obey the Elders, her world confined to the sprawling, isolated compound. Helping Mrs. Brown, the Fold’s veterinarian, was her only glimpse beyond routine chores, but surgeries were new territory.

“Does it… hurt them? The spinning thing, it got bloody,” she said softly, her voice tinged with naive concern. She was eager to learn, but the Fold’s teachings made her wary of anything that seemed to defy their sacred order.

“No, it’s no more invasive than pulling a bad tooth,” Mrs. Brown said, pointing to the sedated horse she’d just worked on. “Testicles make stallions aggressive when they mature. Removing them makes them gentle, obedient, better for the Fold’s harmony.” She plucked the two peach-sized testicles from a bucket and dangled them playfully. “These cause nothing but trouble. They’ll be happier without them.”

Kenzie nodded, her inexperienced and eager to learn mind accepting the logic. The Fold taught that all creatures must be tamed for the greater good. She agreed to try with Bandit, a 4-year-old pony she’d cared for since he was a foal. It felt right to make him better, to align him with the Fold’s vision. She dreamed of becoming a veterinarian, serving the ranch forever, bound to the animals and the family’s sacred ways.

Mrs. Brown guided her through sedating Bandit, a familiar task, as Kenzie was skilled with injections from years of assisting with the Fold’s livestock. She showed her how to expose the testicles with minimal blood and use the Henderson tool to remove them and to prevent bleeding. In twenty minutes, they were done. Bandit woke groggy but soon pranced off, seemingly untroubled.

“Let’s pack up and wash, Kenzie. Your brother’s home soon, and I must leave before the Fold insists I stay for their ritual dinner,” Mrs. Brown chuckled, ushering her to the washroom. Kenzie smiled faintly, uneasy at the mention of her brother.

Jacob, her least favorite sibling, had returned from the city, where he studied something vague the Fold approved as “worldly knowledge.” At 19, Kenzie barely understood him. He mocked her, her curls, her birthmarks, her small stature, breaking the Fold’s code of unity. The Elders excused him, saying his time outside strengthened the family, but Kenzie felt only resentment. Leaving the Fold to do anything is a privilege reserved for boys who are not first-born.

Dinner was tense. The Fold’s long table was laden with simple, communal dishes, but Kenzie’s parents and Jacob discussed matters she didn’t grasp, city dealings, the Fold’s tithes. Her father and Jacob drank the harsh moonshine the family distilled, a privilege for men. Their voices grew sharp, and Kenzie’s stomach knotted. I should slip away before they turn cruel, she thought, rising from the table.

Jacob’s hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her back. “This little lamb forgot to grow again!” he sneered, his breath sour with moonshine. “Still barely four feet? You need to eat to be useful to the Fold!” He shoved mashed potatoes and gravy toward her face. Kenzie squirmed, but his grip was iron.
*Why does he shame me? I’ve done nothing to him, she thought, panic rising as he smeared food across her cheek*. The Fold’s rules forbade defiance, but the humiliation burned.

Her mother, stern but protective, intervened. “Enough, Jacob. Kenzie, go clean yourself and rest.” Kenzie fled upstairs, tears stinging her eyes, and scrubbed the gravy from her skin. Alone, she brooded over Jacob’s cruelty. The Fold taught that all must be made pure, obedient. Maybe I can make him better, like Bandit, she thought, her sheltered mind twisting Mrs. Brown’s lesson into a dark plan.

As night fell, Kenzie waited until the house was silent, the snores of her father and Jacob echoing through the creaky ranch house. She crept to the stables, her heart pounding with forbidden purpose. In the shed, she gathered Mrs. Brown’s tools, whispering to herself, *The sedative, painkiller, scalpel, the spinning thing, the orange liquid. No drill, it’s too loud. I’ll do it by hand.*
The Fold’s teachings urged purity through sacrifice; this, she convinced herself, was her duty.

Sneaking back, she entered Jacob’s room. He lay sprawled on his stomach, naked as usual, face buried in his pillow, oblivious. Perfect, she thought. Just like how Bandit laid earlier today.

She calculated the sedative dose, half of Bandit’s, since Jacob was smaller. With practiced ease, she injected his buttocks. He stirred, lifting his head, but collapsed as the drug took hold.
“The easy part’s done,” she whispered, steeling herself.

Luckily, Jacob was already on his belly, his legs spread wide open. Kenzie felt for his testicles just like Mrs. Brown showed her, making sure she had a clear feel of both testicles before she started the procedure. She stretched Jacob's balls a bit until she could clearly see both of them. She looked for the best place for the incision, just like she was taught, and sliced into his sac. There is almost no blood, I did it right!, she thought to herself as she worked. She started to push Jacob’s testicles towards the slit she just made and then realized that she had made way too big an opening. She wanted to get both near the opening and do the procedure on one, but both suddenly popped out. ”Damn it, I thought the testicles would be bigger. I will use more of that orange stuff then!” she murmured to herself, a little annoyed that she possibly made a mistake, and maybe this mistake will hurt Jacob.

She gathered herself and decided to continue as she was almost done. She took the spinning thing, and as both balls were out, she pinched both of them in the jaws of the device, just like Mrs. Brown taught her. She started to spin it around and around. It took Bandit like 20 seconds with the drill, so this should be okay if I do this for a minute or two, I can spin it quite fast in my grip, she thought. As she rotated the tool and the testicles in the jaws of the device, she saw the testicles and their attachment get whiter and whiter, and suddenly with a little jolt, the tool came away from Jacob. She thought it would take much longer, but then Jacob’s testicles were much smaller and thinner than Bandit’s, maybe that is why it was much easier to twist them off.

She quickly checked for bleeding, but there was none. She did great. Mrs. Brown would be proud. She carefully placed the tool and the testicles onto the carpet, and then used the orange liquid to wash her brother’s now empty sac. She stretched Jacob's ball sac a little bit, just like the older woman showed her earlier during the day, making sure to get the orange liquid in and around the wound to avoid infection and pain.

As she was cleaning up and packing away the tools, making sure not to make any noise, she opened the jaws of the spinny thing and took his brother's testicles and placed them on his nightstand. She wanted to make sure that Jacob knew first thing in the morning that he was better now, and he could be a calm and nice brother from now on. As she left, she looked back and realized that the testicles were still all tangled up from the device and the twisting motions. She placed down her little bag and snuck back into the room to untwist the two testicles and place them on the right and left side of Jacob’s phone, neat and tidy.

She snuck back into the stables, placed all the tools back, and snuck back to sleep, hoping for a nice morning with Jacob, at last.

\---

Morning brought chaos. Jacob was gone, his phone and testicles missing. Strangers, spoke to her mother downstairs. Kenzie eavesdropped, hearing words like “assault” and “break-in.” Her mother, voice breaking, said Jacob had been castrated, his future altered forever.

Kenzie’s heart raced. *Are they talking about what I did?* *I only wanted him to be kind, like Bandit*. Tears spilled as she confessed to her mother, sobbing that she’d followed Mrs. Brown’s teachings to make Jacob better. Her mother, horrified, sent her to her room. Later, the strangers, her mother, and Mrs. Brown entered, their faces grim but gentle. They explained what she had done, at 19, Kenzie’s sheltered upbringing in the Fold had clouded her understanding. Kenzie was disciplined, but not punished too harshly, but Mrs. Brown was banished from the ranch.

Kenzie’s story will continue…